10 Do they not shew thee -- speak to thee, And from their heart bring forth words?
11 'Doth a rush wise without mire? A reed increase without water?
12 While it 'is' in its budding -- uncropt, Even before any herb it withereth.
13 So 'are' the paths of all forgetting God, And the hope of the profane doth perish,
14 Whose confidence is loathsome, And the house of a spider his trust.
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